Adrift Thoughtless Minds
by Adrian Hunter
Summary: Isaac Lahey wants to die. Peter Hale wants to live.
1. can't you bear just one more night?

_**A/N:**_

_**This is something that happens during the events in Letters to Derek, it explains a lot of things and I think y'all should read it.**_

_**It totally explains stuff.**_

_**Isaac and Peter- nuff said.**_

_**Title comes from King Krule's Border line and the chapter title comes from King Krule's Neptune State**_

* * *

When Isaac Lahey goes to bed, he sleeps- and tries to not have nightmares and when he doesn't have nightmares, he dreams these sad dreams.

He dreams of sleeping , being content and then he dreams of fingers- fingers going through his hair, playing with the curls.(Isaac thinks he's younger in this part of dream) The fingers stroke his head gently, he starts to see a face with a smile then a voice murmurs _Isaac_ and all Isaac can think is _Camden_, but he breathes it- and he knows he breathes it, because it feels too loud, the smile falters and the walls of the dream start to collapse- then there's a flood of memories.

Camden teaching him how to ride a bike, Mom with Camden smiling, Camden saying goodbye, Mom dying, Dad yelling, Dad beating him- and the basement- _locks, locks, locks_, screams, tears, Derek offering him the bite, Dad dead, Derek _happy_ with Stiles, the Alphas killing them _all_, Isaac holding Derek- calling him his _brother_\- Derek gone, fingers in his hair-

He wakes up mid-scream, in the dead night, then he's sitting up, trying to breathe properly, and feels the sudden yet faint absence of fingers in his hair, as if it isn't imagined. It never feels imagined, it always feels real, too _real_.

It's three in the morning, too early for anything so Isaac lays his head on the pillow that smells like Derek. He clutches the other pillow, closing his eyes and remembers Derek happy, Derek hugging him, Camden smiling and carding his fingers through Isaac's hair-

Isaac shuts his eyes and tries to think of nothing.

He doesn't want to remember what having a brother feels like.


	2. don't fret precious,I'm here

_**A/N: **__**This is An Isaac and Peter centric story so this Jackson chapter is just something that happened last night whilst Isaac was **_**_sleeping,He isn't someone you'll be seeing lots- I didn't want to have to make another companion piece. Enjoy!_**

Jackson staggers through the now very familiar cemetery; he's got an unfinished bottle of Jameson in his hand, flowers in the other- and then a gun.

Whilst he passes dozens of tombstones he makes sure to look at every name as he passes (because he thinks that's acknowledging them, wouldn't they want to know they're not forgotten?) and when he gets to the patch where four tombstones are neatly lined up next to each other, with the same design, same bold, empty letters written on all of them-the same day, month and year, he stops are stares at them.

_Again._

Alison, Stiles, Lydia and Danny.

Jackson is somehow glad that he is drunk though he shouldn't be because he doesn't remember how it happened and it shouldn't even be possible, and he should ask himself how his wolf is so weak that he can't even-

But he doesn't ask himself those questions, not because he's been weak for so long-but because he _can't_. He can't ask himself anything, because he's drunk, without knowing how it's possible and with no answers to any of the questions in his head.

His wolf feels so far away- he feels so tired, he's traumatized, and most of all he wishes Lydia, and Danny (especially Danny) were here- _but they're not_.

It's been almost two long years since the four of them were put six feet under and it still hurts as much as the day they were buried. These were –_were_ people that he knew, people that he went to school with, and people he lived almost his entire life around, two of them were people that he loved.

He places different flowers on each grave, two yellow and one red, and the last one white. The yellow ones go to Stiles and Alison because that's how he'll like to remember them, albeit they had their problems and they weren't that close, Jackson wants to remember them both as this bright light that shone for them, and to Lydia and Danny, he places the red one for Lydia and white one for Danny; he knows that they all died for the- the pack. For Derek, who's a fucking coward, for Scott who's too busy being hung up over Derek, for Isaac who's as alone as he ever was, for Peter who doesn't care at all, for Erica and Boyd who always stick together and for Jackson- who can't take any of it all.

Danny and Lydia were his everything- _were his everything._

"How am I supposed to live without you guys?" He croaks when he sits in-between Lydia and Danny's graves. He pulls his feet up and finally reaches into his yellow jacket- Danny's favorite, pulls out the gun, he doesn't even know what kind of gun it is, he just knows that it's a handgun. He should know where he got it, but he doesn't really know.

Oh, _wait_\- a faint niggling in his mind and it reaches a foggy memory- he got this from his dad? _Yes_, he got this from dad, it's the gun he hides in the wardrobe -he thinks only mom and him know about it. But Jackson knows about it, that's how he has it now- with one bullet already loaded.

The bullet that will end it all- a silver bullet.

Jackson kind of fell in love with Lydia Martin the day he met her- when she wasn't what everyone wanted to be, when she was just that girl who offered to help Jackson with his studies when he wasn't doing so well in middle school. She always wore her hair in a tight bun or a ponytail and she would always be found somewhere in the library.

"_Need help with that?"_

"_What?"_

"_You're doing it all wrong-"_

"_Well, how am I supposed to-"_

"_I'll teach you."_

"_What?"_

"_You'd rather fail remedial mathematics, then?"_

"_No, that's not what-"_

"_Then suck it up, mister- I'm offering free tuition. Tomorrow after school then," she pushed stray strands away from her face-behind her ear, "Okay?"_

"_Okay."_

Jackson clutches the gun in his hands- tears silently falling down his face. He's supposed to be better than this, he's supposed to be grateful for what they did, their sacrifice-he's not supposed to want to do this, and worse, he's not supposed to even think about it.

How could he do this to them?

How could he even _think_ of it?

Jackson Whittemore is a selfish boy, his parents think it's because of the care and affection that he never received as a child. All he knew, at the Home, before mom and dad was how to share and never have something for himself- whilst his insecurities poked holes and went through his system. He remembers how he was adopted by the Whittemore's and how he hated them in the beginning for making him hope he'd ever be wanted (they gave him things- like that was how to handle a child).

One day he was in the park with his classmates from kindergarten - they were taken for a brief outing by their teacher, they were supposed to learn how to play responsibly- each kid held the hand of the kid that was in front of them and Jackson ,albeit unwillingly, found himself clutching at the hand of a black haired boy in front of him who wore bright green shorts and an ugly yellow coat- he was slightly taller than Jackson, but Jackson had no intention or plans of talking to the boy, lest he turned violent around him.

_Like they did at the Home._

They walked to the park and when they arrived, they were allowed to do as they pleased, but responsibly- which meant no getting one's clothes dirty, no smears of mud on anyone's face- none of that, really. Jackson had no problem with this, but a certain kid who reminded Jackson of the bully he had before Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore, came up to him thirty minutes into playtime because he was cleaner than most of them and pushed Jackson into a mud puddle.

He tried not to cry all the way back to the school- even when the bully made fun of him again.

_You stink!_

_I heard your mommy and daddy didn't want you!_

_Why don't you just go back to where you belong?_

_With the other dirty children._

Jackson was in the teacher's office, sobbing away, refusing to let anyone touch him- he briefly wished he was back in the Home where everyone was dirty, selfless and not _wanted_.

"_Please don't cry."_

It was the black haired boy with the weird green shorts and ugly yellow coat.

He sat next to Jackson and promptly kissed Jackson on the cheek.

"_You're very pretty, you're pretty like my momma."_

And what was little Jackson supposed to say?

He cried even more- then the bigger boy hugged him gently.

"_My momma says beautiful things should always be protected, I'll protect you, I promise"._

And true to his word, Danny protected Jackson- up until the day he died.

Jackson clutches the gun a little firmer whilst the tears make his face wet, and he knows he might as well be bleeding, because bleeding from the inside hurts a million times more than bleeding from the outside. He can't live without Danny- he _never_ could, really.

_Danny kissing him on the cheek again when they're twelve- after Jackson and him did the talent show and won, Danny holding his hand when they're eight and going to play at Danny's house where there's a woman beautiful just like him, Danny says, Jackson kissing Danny on the cheek at fifteen when he gets sick- and Danny just laughs, Danny pulling away when Lydia comes into their lives, Danny's light dying a little every time Lydia spends more time with Jackson, Jackson pulling away when he becomes the Kanima, Danny hugging him when Jackson tells him everything-telling Jackson he'll always love him and Jackson holding a limp Danny in his arms, tears falling down his face, with a grief he's never felt before, whispering, I'm sorry._

And for that he'll never forgive himself.

He pulls the trigger.

::.

"I guess I was right then."

Jackson turns and sees an unfamiliar familiar face. Jackson should have sensed him- he ( his wolf) should have realized there was someone nearby.

But why didn't it?

He pulled the trigger- why was there no gun shot? He momentarily ignores the man who was in front of him (Jackson was drunk after all) to check what happened to the bullet- he found none.

But he had the bullet! The only bullet he had- the one bullet that could kill a werewolf, how in the hell-

"Who the fuck are you?" He tries to growl angrily when his anger begins. He's angry, so angry, because he can't even kill himself.

And who the fuck is this guy, anyway?

The person, a tall, slim figure, had a sharp face , short black hair, and Strange looking eyes( it was as if they weren't real)and was in plain jeans and a striped shirt looks at him quite unimpressed. Jackson's eyes flash as if to change into his wolf form- but it doesn't happen. The person then looks at him with a strange quirk of his lips and Jackson suddenly feels as if something is _very _wrong.

"I hoped it wouldn't be this bad- but I'm glad you couldn't kill yourself- even though I wouldn't have let it happen at _all_ as you would have created even more problems for everyone," he starts to walk towards Jackson and Jackson snarls, tries to wolf out, even with his horrible drunken haze that won't let him think clearly-

The man flicks an arm around and suddenly Jackson is very sober, but there's another effect as well- Jackson collapses to the ground. When he tries to move, he realizes that he's paralyzed or that's what he feels like- he feels the feeling- that feeling he would get when he was a Kanima, the sensations of his victims – _desperation, despair and fear_.

The man crouches next to Jackson and pulls the gun from him and looks it almost disgusted and takes something from his own jeans.

"Honestly, Jackson, offing yourself in such a distasteful manner- I thought you were better than this," even if Jackson could show emotion or move right now, he knows he'd look nothing but ashamed, "Does this look familiar?" He hovers over Jackson as he shows him a tiny silver_ bullet_\- and of course it looks familiar, because it's the bullet Jackson was supposed to use to kill himself with, the silver bullet- the Only silver bullet he has. He more than tries to speak or get up, but he's paralyzed and the feeling of the Kanima is overcoming him, he feels like it's going to-

The man snaps his fingers at Jackson," Hey, buddy, snap out of it, this is important, come on, I did not drag myself from He-," he stops, considering his words and continues, "I did not drag myself from my nice warm bed to watch you go back into that stump you had."

How the fuck does he know about the Kanima?

Or even his name?

He briefly wishes anyone, even Derek, was here.

"Listen , man, you have to stay alive, okay? There's a lot of things happening right now, but you and the pack has to stay together- and alive, be it with or without Derek. So just know that you'll be hurting a bunch of people if you die in a lot of ways. I know you don't remember me, but that's for the best, because after all I am the one who gave you the bullet, but you'll never remember."

The man's words ring alarm bells in Jackson and suddenly Jackson feels a faint , but urgent niggling at the back of his mind- telling him that he's missed something, he's supposed to know something, something is missing-

"So, we'll do this again," he smiles strangely ( nothing is normal about this man)," and I'm sure we'll be seeing each other more often- quite often actually. Your wolf is way too weak, almost untraceable- but I promised a lot of people to keep you safe, preferably at a distance, but you leave me no choice and the people that I'm doing this for? They care about you and want you very alive, can you do that for them? Please?" The man's words are kind, but they do not pierce his heart like the man wants them to- Jackson knows.

If Jackson had to choose to live for someone- it'd be for Danny and Danny only- because Danny was more of his everything than Lydia tried to be- Danny just _was_, he didn't have to _try_.

_No_ is what he mouths and is the last thing he remembers before everything just disappears.

::.

Jackson does not feel very awake, but his head hurts- he's cold and he hears another voice.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" He looks up in the darkness of the cemetery(?) and sees a man with an unfamiliar familiar face-looking very concerned. He tries to sit up, but almost falls over.

"Who-" is all he manages to get out before the pain proves to be way too much for him. The man quickly comes to his side and tries to sit him up as gently as possible.

He feels like something's missing- _wrong_.

"I found you passed out here with a beer bottle next to these tombstones," he looks up to them for a bit before casting his eyes on Jackson again- he seems _wrong_, but not _wrong_?

Jackson doesn't know how to say what he wants to say, partially because he doesn't know exactly what he's supposed to say- everything feels so strange , his world is so dizzy, his head, spinning.

"Let me take you home," the man says and Jackson remembers Danny, remembers the same sentence on Danny's lips to a stranger Jackson began to hate then and there- at the party two years ago, even though he was with Lydia.

Danny on his mind is something _right_-it's the one thing that doesn't feel wrong, the physical pain of his body almost masks the emotional bleeding.

He lets the man scoop him up and take him into his car- he might be a serial killer and/or rapist- but Jackson doesn't care, why should he? He just curls up in the passenger seat and feels a jacket (or maybe blanket) pulled over him and then he drifts off to sleep in seconds.

When he wakes up the next morning, in his warm bed and alone as usual, he forgets that he never told the man where he lives.


End file.
